


Two Drink Minimum

by ereshai



Series: Various Prompt Fills [27]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flirting, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4331118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Phil wants to do is unwind from his stressful day - days - and then go home and sleep for a week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Drink Minimum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lellabeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lellabeth/gifts).



> Written for a prompt (and previously posted) on tumblr - "Wanna dance?"

“Wanna dance?”

Phil looked blearily at the man standing by his barstool. It was the good-looking blond he’d noticed on the dance floor earlier. He furrowed his brow and looked at the seats on either side of him. One was empty and the other held a woman who was sitting with her back to them, chatting and holding hands with another woman.

“Huh?” Phil finally said.

“You. Dance. With me. Wanna?” The man said carefully.

“How much have I had to drink?” Phil said into his glass. It was his first drink - he couldn’t be drunkenly imagining things already, could he? Although after the past forty-eight hours… “How much have _you_ had to drink?”

“Not a drop. I don’t drink while I’m in training.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you picked the wrong place to not drink in.” Phil pointed at the sign behind the bar. _Two Drink Minimum_ , it said.

“No rule says I have to actually drink.” The man shrugged. “I let my dance partners have ‘em. To make up for stepping on their toes.”

Phil snorted. “I doubt you stepped on anybody’s toes. You’re a great dancer.”

“So you have been watching,” the man said with a broad smile. “Third time’s the charm. Will you dance with me?”

“Not this time. I would end up owing you for damages to your toes, and since you aren’t drinking…”

The man sat on a stool. “Don’t tell me you can’t dance. Not the way you move. You aren’t the only one who’s been watching,” he said at Phil’s questioning look. “I saw you walk in. And I saw the way you neatly avoided a collision with that drunk couple. Even if you don’t know how to dance, I bet you’d pick it up real quick.”

“Oh, I can dance,” Phil admitted. “But I’ve been on the go for the last couple of days. I’m going to drink my two drinks and then go home to my very comfortable bed and sleep for a day.”

“Then I’ll keep you company. While you drink,” he said hastily. “I could use a break. Clint Barton,” he added, holding out his hand.

“Phil Coulson,” he responded as he shook Clint’s hand. “You’re more than welcome to join me, but I can’t promise I’ll be good company.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Clint got the bartender’s attention and asked for a glass of water. Phil took the opportunity to order his second drink.

“What are you in training for?” Phil asked once they’d been served. Something athletic, he decided. Boxing, maybe? He was so busy picturing Clint in boxing shorts that he almost missed Clint’s reply.

“The U. S. Olympic archery team.”

Phil didn’t know much about archery, but he didn’t need to in order to imagine the play of Clint’s muscles as he drew back his bow. His arms. His shoulders. His back was probably amazing, too. “I’d love to see you practice,” he said before his brain caught up to his mouth.

“That could be arranged.” Clint’s smile was…wow. The ill-advised alcohol on top of the lack of sleep were not doing Phil’s brain any favors.

“Yeah.” Phil blinked. “I mean, you could text me the time and place.”

“I don’t have my phone on me.”

Phil frowned. “Oh,” he said finally. “Here’s my card.” He pulled one of his business cards out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

“Thanks,” Clint said with another bright smile as he slipped the card into the back pocket of his jeans. He had a nice butt.

Clint leaned in. “You could just come with me in the morning. I’ll buy you breakfast,” he said huskily.

Phil gaped like a fish. “Um. I really do need to get some sleep.”

“We’ll make it a late lunch, then.”

“Um.”

“I’ll call you around one o’clock?” Clint was smiling again, damn him.

“Oh!” Phil’s face felt like it was on fire. “Yes, one is fine.”

Clint’s eyes were twinkling. “Did you have something else in mind?”

“…no?”

“I haven’t even gotten you out on the dance floor yet. Dancing in the sheets will have to wait until we know each other a little better.”

“You’re taking advantage of my exhausted state.”

“Just a little bit.”

Clint was still leaning toward him, and once again, Phil acted without consulting his brain first. He leaned forward, closing the small distance between them, and planted a soft kiss on Clint’s lips.

When the kiss ended, he drew back a little. “See you tomorrow?” he whispered.

“Looking forward to it,” Clint whispered back.


End file.
